Modern World 101 for pirates
by effulgentcolors
Summary: Emma is trying to be a good teacher but Killian is being a really naughty student. A/N: This is, hopefully, going to be a series of Hook meets world ficlets.
1. The Mysterious Whirlpool

Killian stared at the dark swirling abyss with an uneasy feeling. It reminded him of the portal that had taken them to Neverland just a few months ago. He knew what dwelled in its depths, he knew the power it held, yet his senses screamed 'unknown', 'dangerous', 'unpredictable'. The constant noise it made was deafening and nerve-wreaking. It had been going on for what to the captain seemed like an eternity. He wanted to know what was on the other side. What dark magic controlled it and set it rumbling with such ferocity. His fingers were twitching with the desire to reach for his sword. Of course, said sword was stashed away in Emma's closet. Another threatening noise and Killian felt himself tense. He was exposed, his knowledge of the situation - limited, his weapon – out of reach. He raised his hook in preparation to strike.

"Killian, if you wreak my washing machine, I swear, you will never see me in anything but that turtleneck again! This is the only clean thing I have left!"

He turned around slowly to see Emma, arms crossed in front of her chest, looking less than amused, and gulped, a mixture of embarrassment, and that feeling you get when caught with your hand in the cookie jar before dinner, coming over him. Estimating his chances of success, he settled on an 'I'm lost and adorable' expression and looked up at his swan from his position, crouching before the mysterious whirlpool of clothes.

"But, Emma! This thing is powered by dark magic!" he had to at least try to make her see sense. However, all he got for his trouble was her patent eye-roll.

"Yes, because that is exactly what dark magic is famous for, washing Henry's dirty t-shirts. I wish!" Emma sighed and taking Killian's hand dragged him to the back of the machine, showing him where it was plugged in. "See? It runs on electricity."

"Well, I'm still not convinced this 'electricity' you blame everything on is not a sort of demon or evil fairy itself, lass," he eyed the cable with mistrust and Emma looked up at the ceiling, not sure if she was asking for guidance or demanding to know how her life had turned into this.

"It's not, ok? It's like…" Emma scrunched up her nose trying to figure out how to explain it to him, which he found quite adorable. "Like fire. Only, you know, through a wire. Hey, that even rhymes!"

All the pirate did was raise an eyebrow, clearly doubtful that there were flames crawling inside that thing.

"Ok, no, it's not that," she was getting exasperated. "I don't know how to explain electricity, ok? Something about electronic signals and stuff. Either way, it's not evil!"

"Yeah, and those ungodly sounds it is making are what? The voices of a million angels living inside it?"

"Ugh, Killian!" Emma put both her hands in her hair, holding and resisting the desire to pull. "I don't know, ok? It's a washing machine! It uses water and detergent and makes a lot of noise but spits your clothes out clean in the end. It's a _good_ thing. Useful."

Killian stood staring at the object in question for a while before, carefully, as if he expected it to bite him at any second, he put his hand on top of it.

"Oook. You can… pet it," Emma was torn between being amused and being a bit worried for her pirate's sanity. How was she going to explain to him that Santa Claus doesn't live in the back of the refrigerator? Oh God, he probably didn't know who Santa Claus was! Or thought he was some kind of demon too. What if Santa _was_ a demon in his world? Emma shook her head. Maybe it was her mental state she should start worrying about.

"It vibrates," Killian had got a calculating look on his face and just like that the little warning bells with his name on them in Emma's head were being set off.

"Yeah," she agreed with caution.

"And you're sure it is not evil, luv? Or possessed? Or controlled by the Queen or the Crocodile's dark magic?" he slowly turned around, eyebrows raised in question but a grin already tugging at his lips.

"I'm sure." Emma said slowly, resisting the urge to take a step back, seeing that predatory look she was very familiar with enter his eyes.

"Good," and before she knew what hit her, he had wrapped his left arm around her waist and thrown her on top of the previously feared beast, his right hand going up her tight and his lips brushing her ear as he whispered in it. "Let's see, if we can shake the cleaning angels right out of it."


	2. The Dead Fireflies

"Emma!"

Emma Swan rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, groaning in frustration.

"I'm a strong, balanced, _patient_ person," she muttered under her breath as she headed for the stairs. "I'm a patient person. I'm pa-"

"EMMA!"

"WHAT?!"

So maybe she wasn't so patient. She had a freaking pirate with a non-existent amount of knowledge about the world around him, who had apparently fallen under the illusion that she knew everything about everything and was to be his guide on this new adventure in her 'land of bloody machines" as he called it. She had to admit she found it flattering and endearing at times.

"EMMAAA!"

But at others she just wanted to gag him and lock him away. Knowing him he would probably enjoy it, the sexy bastard!

"What? What is it now?" she demanded of the captain's back as she came down the stairs. "Is the shower trying to drawn you again? The toilet wants to suck you back to Neverland? The shredder is trying to eat your fingers? What is it?!"

Killian turned around with a worried look on his face and just like that she felt all the irritation drain right out of her. She knew living here wasn't easy on him. He spent more time in her apartment than on his ship so that he could be with her and Henry, and she was aware that the least she could do was make sure he didn't lose the other hand too to some kitchen appliance. With that thought foremost in her mind, Emma moved forward and put her arms around her pirate's waist. Looking up at him, she decided she could find all the patience in the world for him.

"What's going on?" she asked, invitingly.

"I think the fireflies are dead, lass," he said with a frown, looking like he wasn't sure if he was at fault or just terribly unlucky.

"Huh?" Emma furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

Killian raised his hook, pointing to the light bulb over their heads. It had burned out.

"I pressed that 'switch' thing and they started shining and the BOOM! They died," he looked so genuinely worried that she almost felt guilty for laughing. Almost.

"It's not nice to make light of the demise of creatures that work for you, Swan," the reproach in his voice only made her roll her eyes.

"Killian, remember when I let you believe that fireflies lived in the light bulbs because they were like the fifteenth thing you asked me about that day?" he nodded slowly, suspicion creeping into his blue eyes. "Yeah, well, they don't."

The amount of shock written all over his face was enough to send her into another fit of laughter but Emma restrained herself.

"It just burned out. Like when you light a match and it burns out in the end?" she nodded to herself, proud of her explanation. She was getting better at this.

"So we just light another one?" Killian moved to put his arms around her too, quick to adapt and taking her words in without a flicker of a doubt.

"Kinda, yeah. I gotta change it is all," she moved away from him to rummage in one of the lower cabinets in the kitchen and came up with a new light bulb. "I just gotta find something to stand on."

"Now, now," the captain grinned. "Why would you do that when you can just ask for my assistance?"

He reached over, using his hook and the belt on her jeans to pull her closer, and before Emma could object to the suggestion he bent down, wrapping his arms around her legs and standing up, effectively lifting her high enough to reach her target.

"I could have used a chair you know?" but she was already screwing off the old bulb as she said it.

"You could also lay off the donuts, sheriff," he gave a fake groan, grinning even as her hand swatted him over the head. Hard.

"Jerk. You'll be the one laying off some 'pleasurable activities' tonight."

"Promises, promises. You couldn't resist me, if you tried, princess," the pirate laughed. The sound was pure mischief because he had just realized that their position gave him a perfect view of Emma's backside and, on top of that, put it within bitable distance.

"I'm d- OH! Killian!"

"Mmm?"

"You bit me!"

"That I did, luv. Care for a repeat performance," he was just leaning in again when her hand came down to hit him repeatedly. "Swan, I advice you stop wiggling unless you wanna end up on the floor."

"Well, I'm done so you can just put me down now!" she huffed and tried her hardest to glare at him from the position she was in.

"Oh, lass, you're far from done. But I do intend to rectify that injustice."

He dove in for another bite.


	3. The Entertaining Magic Box

In the last two years Emma had seen a lot of weird shit. Like A LOT. Fairytale characters, magic, dragons, portals. You name it. She had come to the point where, tempting fate or not, she was willing to claim that nothing will ever shock her again. A pink dinosaur? Snow getting Dumbo as a pet for Henry? The Evil Queen scared of gummy bears? Killian in nothing but a purple bow?(ok so maybe that last one had already happened but you just did not get used to something like that, ok?) Throw it all at her! She wouldn't even bat an eyelash.

That is why when Emma walked into her apartment and was left speechless, the world kept turning, but just barely.

It appeared that no matter what land they were from, or what knowledge they had of the world around them, men always knew what to do with a couch, a TV and a bag of chips. And her captain was absolutely no exception.

She rolled her eyes so hard she feared they would never come back around again.

"Killian?" she finally managed to get over the shock of how _normal_ he looked. Only to be ignored.

"Killian," her voice got louder as her surprise wore of enough for her to be annoyed with him. Almost nothing could keep at bay being annoyed or turned on by him. Or usually both.

"KILLIAN!" Emma was pretty sure the neighbours had heard this one but fortunately they were used to hearing her yell his name at any time of the day. She scrunched up her nose. Well, she guessed it wasn't so fortunate for them. Shaking her head, she focused again on her pirate only to realize that he had yet to pay any attention to her. That just wouldn't do.

"YO, CAPTAIN INNUENDO!"

Killian's head snapped in her direction and he looked at her as if he was just realizing she had walked in. Figures.

"How the hell did you manage to turn that on?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow and pointing her thumb at the blaring TV.

"I sat on top of that," he said, lifting up the remote. He was holding it with two fingers, keeping it as far away from his face as possible, as if he expected it to blow up at any second, and looking at it in a way that suggested that he suspected it was actually Rumpelstiltskin's baby blanket or something. Emma shook her head again, not sure if she was exasperated or amused.

"Why are you holding it like that?" she chuckled at the mistrust and disgust he eyed the device with.

"'Cause when I touch it, it does stuff to the entertaining magic box," he dropped the remote back on the table, waited a beat and then nudged it further away from him with his hook. He looked like he expected it to jump up and challenge him to a duel.

Emma snored. Amused it was. And also quite surprised since Killian almost never gave a modern device a positive nickname. With 'entertaining magic box' she was pretty sure the TV had shot right up to first place in the 'Toys Killian didn't have on his imaginary ship 300+ years ago' list. And had started a brand new list of its own, which Emma shortly named "Shit the pirate figured out himself'.

She remained silent, expecting the torrent of questions to come at her at any moment. How was it constantly so loud without ever getting tired of yelling? Was it a magic mirror that showed them what was happening in another world? Did that world exist inside of it? Had it been shrunk down to fit in there? Was that another curse of Regina's? Were they to go and save the little football players and the characters from F.R.I.E.N.D.S? Except maybe for Joey 'cause he seemed pretty happy in there.

Emma's eyes suddenly widened. Porn! Then immediately she sighed with relief. If Henry hadn't managed to get around parent control yet, she was pretty sure she was safe from Killian for the next few years. Maybe by then he would have grown up enough to handle it. She watched him abandon the empty bag of chips and throw some peanuts in the air, trying to catch them in his mouth but getting distracted by the TV again so they ended up hitting him on the nose and landing on the carpet. Maybe not.

It appeared that he had once again forgotten about her presence.

"So? Aren't we gonna play 20 questions about the TV? And another 20 about the remote?" she asked impatiently. She wasn't used to not being the center of his attention the second she walked through the front door. That was making her more irritable than anything else really. Great, jealous of a flat screen and a set of speakers. Could she BE any more pathetic?

"No, no, wait, this is good," he waved his hand in a gesture with which she wasn't sure if he was dismissing her or inviting her to watch with him. For his sake, she hoped it was the latter. "I think Tom is finally going to catch Jerry."


	4. The Iron-incased Iceberg

Emma woke up in an extremely weird condition. She was feeling both unbearably hot and unexplainably cold. As her mind rid itself of the last traces of sleep, she remembered that the first was thanks to the strongest heat wave in Storybrooke history, which was currently upon them. And as she turned her head to the right, she found the reason for the second. Killing wasn't next to her. She frowned, looking over to the clock on the nightstand. Her eyebrows jumped up in surprise. 6:15. Since he had moved in with her, the pirate hadn't even once got out of bed before 9 o'clock. This called for an investigation.

The sheriff reached for her robe but her hand was already sweaty from the heat so she decided to risk venturing out in her practically non-existent nightie. The sun must have barely risen, for crying out loud! There was no way Henry was up too.

Emma made her way down the stairs and turned around, spotting her pirate in the kitchen.

"Killian," she tried to keep her voice down to a whisper. "What on earth are you looking for in 6 o'clock in the morning?"

She received no answer and the captain's head was still hidden from view by the open door of the refrigerator. She was actually surprised that he had gone looking for food inside it. He usually looked at the appliance with derision, explaining how he had managed to keep food on board his ship just fine without such an iron-incased iceberg. So he stuck to the cupboards and she got anything they needed from the fridge, promptly giving her caveman an eye-roll. Or fairytale man, as the case was.

"Ki-" that's when she heard it. A faint snore. "You gotta be kidding me."

She moved around the kitchen island and sure enough, the man was sleeping, one knee resting on the side of the fridge, one arm above it and the other supporting itself on the open door, while his forehead was leaning on one of the refrigerator shelves, right below the yogurt.

Emma let the angel on her shoulder have its say for about 10 seconds before she reached out and knocked Killian's arm from the door. One support down, the whole construction seemed to crumble. His other arm lost its purchase under the added weight, his head slipped right into a half-eaten watermelon and the door tried to close itself and trap him inside.

"W-Wha! Bloody hell!" the pirate shot out of the fridge, losing balance and landing on his ass in front of Emma, who was laughing so hard she feared she might pass out and end up next to him.

"Oh my God!" she tried to take back control of her breathing but the giggles just wouldn't stop so she resigned herself to slipping down to the floor, leaning on the island behind her. "Oh God! Oh."

Killian just sat there, glaring up at her and trying to decide if it was time to plunk himself a swan.

"Very funny, Swan! That's a nice way to wake up your man," his indignation only made her laugh even harder, her hands covering her mouth and her eyes filling with tears. "I only have one hand to support myself with, you know? That was beyond mean."

"I'm sorry," Emma choked out, finally managed to pull herself together, looking at him with a sheepish smile. "I just couldn't help myself."

"Oh, that's a nice one. I'll remember that excuse for the next time you're mad at me for some ridiculous offense you imagine I committed," Killian rubbed his backside with a frown.

"Don't be such a baby," Emma got on her hands and knees and crawled over to him until their faces were mere inches apart. "I'll kiss it all better."

The pirate desperately tried to stay mad at her but a reluctant grin was already tugging at his lips when she leaned in and pressed her own to them. Who was he kidding anyway, he could forget the colour of the sea easier than he could keep a grudge against her.

"What were you doing in there anyway?" asked Emma as she pulled away.

"I was hot," he pouted, leaning forward and trying to engage her in a kiss again.

"So you went to sleep in the fridge?!" Emma pulled back, holding him by the shoulders and looking at him without any comprehension. He had to be kidding.

"Well… yeah," he rolled his eyes. "I didn't intend to _fall asleep_. I was just gonna stand there for a while. I never got what good that bloody machine was until this blasted weather hit us."

"Killian, no." Emma shook her head, her eyes almost popping out of her head. "That's not what we use the fridge for."

"Why not?"

"It's… It's just not, ok? Just… no," she shook her head again before her eyes lit up with an idea. She got up and opened the freezer, rummaging around until she came up with a bag of ice. "Now _this_ you can use to cool down."

She dropped back down to her knees, handling him a cube while she popped one in her mouth.

Killian eyed the little object, watching it melt in his hand and leave a cold wet trail. A mischievous glint entered his eyes and he grinned at his girl. Suddenly he leaned forward and dropped the half-melted cube in her cleavage.

"Killian!" Emma jumped on her feet, dropping the bag of ice cubes and trying to shake out the one that had, by now, slipped to her bellybutton.

The pirate just laughed and gave her an evil look.

"Payback is a bitch, lass." With that he stood up, grabbing Emma around the waist and expertly throwing her over his shoulder, before he reached down to retreat the bag and headed in the direction of the bedroom. "But worry not! Your captain shall help you cool down, princess."


	5. The Personal Miniature Hell

Emma had been unable to relax all day. She had kept glancing at her watch every half an hour and her leg had maintained a steady bouncing that had even managed to drive David out of the station. She was also pretty sure her stomach hurt because she had chewed off half of her pen top. So, yeah, saying she had been nervous was kind of an understatement. But she had a good reason to be. Earlier that morning Killian had instructed her to forgo stopping at Granny's on her way home because he had the intention of cooking dinner. That had almost made Emma run back inside and prepare an essay, a Power Point presentation and, if need be, a good hand-cuffing, to make him see why this went so beyond the definition of 'bad idea'. Why she hadn't? Well, Henry had already been late for school (and since he was spending the night at Regina's there was no way she was letting him go in there with a note for which the ex-mayor could then pester her forever), she had already been late for work herself and, in all honesty, she had kinda wanted to see what would happen. Of course, as the day progressed, Emma saw the error of her ways and by the time she was going up the stairs, she fully expected to no longer have an apartment to live in. Who could blame her? The first time Killian had seen an oven his exact words had been 'Well, lass, I see you even have a personal miniature hell in this place'. Then he had proceeded to ask if the pie was ready every five minutes.

This was why it came as a real shock to her when she walked in and did not smell smoke. What she did smell made her mouth water. Killian was just lightening two candles on an otherwise perfectly-set table and grinned as he looked up and spotted her standing at the door with her eyes ready to pop out of her head.

"Evening, luv," he left the match and walked towards her, leaning in until his lips were almost touching hers.

Her eyes started drifting shut and she was just about to close the distance between them, her mouth slightly parted in expectation, when he disappeared.

"How was your day?" he asked from behind her, helping her out of her coat. Oh, yeah, what a gentleman. Except that she could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"Fine," she wasn't about to let him know that she had spent all her time thinking about him, even if it had mostly involved him burning his eyebrows along with half the apartment. "And I'm more interested in knowing how _your_ day went."

Emma ventured carefully into the kitchen, looking around suspiciously. She was not convinced. There was no way he hadn't done _something_. The man wouldn't even go looking for the rum when the oven was on.

"Good. Wolfgirl called to ask me to help her with the new tables for Granny's and on the way back I swung by the docks to check on my girl," he pulled out a bottle of wine, popping the cork with his hook and pouring her a glass, all the while avoiding the one question he knew she truly wanted answered. "Then I came back to start on the dinner I had promised you."

"Yeah, right," Emma mumbled doubtfully, her eyes still darting around as if she expected a half-cooked pig to jump at her at any second, "So what are we having?"

For a moment she thought he would produce a Burger King bag from behind his bag. Then she remembered that there wasn't one of those in Storybrooke. But, truth be told, she would've been less surprised if he had sailed to Boston to pick some up than if he had cooked the meal himself. Without any casualties.

"Chicken," he moved aside, presenting her with a view of the golden-brown, drool-worthy bird. "And a desert. Which is a surprise."

He winked at her and Emma just lost it. She might have been able to get over the chicken but a desert, combined with the way he was acting as if he had been the chef in the house for years, was just too much.

"Ok, what the hell did you do?" his startled look and the fact that he actually took a step back made her realize that she might have come off more aggressive than reasonably expected. "I'm sorry! But, seriously, how did you do that?!"

She waved her arms around wildly, pointing at him, the table and generally the not-burned-down house.

"I'm starting to feel slightly offended over here, Swan."

"Oh, come on! Until a few days ago you couldn't get the shower to not melt your skin off or freeze the family jewels," she knew that she probably wasn't the charmed, grateful girlfriend he had expected but she also knew Killian, and she wasn't buying this.

"That thing has a bloody mind of its own! It grows hot and cold whenever it pleases," he yelled in indignation. "And don't pretend you're not concerned about my 'jewels', Swan."

"It does that only because you turn the faucet as if it's the ship's helm," Emma sighed in exasperation she had had the 'shower=evil' argument one too many times. "Did you get dinner from Granny's?"

"No, I did not!" by now Killian was just as exasperated, glaring at her as if she was denying him the golden star he deserved. He stalked toward her until she was trapped between the table and one very annoyed pirate. "I didn't tell you I'd buy dinner, I told you I'd _cook_ dinner, savvy?"

"You called my mom, didn't you?" she demanded even as she tried to stop her eyes from darting to his lips and the way he was now slightly panting. Oh, she could drive him crazy alright, the trick was not letting herself get lost in the crazy too.

"No," he moved even closer, his hook around her right wrist and his hand coming to rest on her tight, making her skin burn even through her jeans.

"Umm," Emma gulped and desperately tried to think of something else, anything that didn't involve him in nothing but oven mitts. "Ruby! Ruby made you dinner as a thank you for helping her."

"No," Killian whisper in her right ear, then moved over to the other one, just barely brushing her lips on his way, he had apparently decided to drop being annoyed with her. "I told her you'd thank me for her."

Emma's eyes fluttered shut, her breathing heavy. Oh, who was she kidding, she couldn't win this battle any more than he could.

"There's no food on the table yet, right?" she murmured.

"Uh, no," she didn't see his confused frown or the way it immediately disappeared when her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

"Mary Margaret's favorite bowl on it?" she drew her hand away from his hook.

"N-no. Emma wh-" he never got to finish as Emma turned around and swept everything off the table in one quick fluid motion, letting it crash to the floor, and jumping on top of said table to take its place.

"Well, come on then, captain," she said seductively, grinning at his stunned expression. She leaned back on her hands and lifted a leg, placing it on his shoulder and drawing him closer. "You have been a stand up citizen and the sheriff thinks you deserve a reward."

* * *

Killian was lying on the kitchen table, one leg bent at the knee and one arm wrapped around Emma's waist, her head resting on his chest. She lifted herself up on one elbow, an amused smile dancing on her lips, and he raised his head to look into her sparkling eyes.

"So?" she said with an I'd-best-you-for-the-rest-of-our-lives-and-you're- gonna-love-it smirk and a raised eyebrow.

The pirate groaned, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the hard surface beneath them.

"I called David," he sighed in defeat.

"You asked my _dad _for cooking advice?!"

"Hey! I'll have you know we made a great cheesecake."


	6. The Secretive White Box

"Emma," Killian called out with his back to her. "What does that do? I've never seen you or your mother use it?"

Emma turned around to find her pirate inspecting the microwave with great interest, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the handle, apparently debating whether or not to open it and wondering what could possibly jump at him if he did. And if it was going to bite him.

"Shhh," hissed Emma, looking around. "I'll tell you later."

Killian looked at her, an eyebrow raised in a mix of confusion and amusement. Emma usually laughed or rolled her eyes at him when he was around any of this world's creations. He had expected the usual 'it's not gonna bite you' along with the 'no, it's not magic. Yes, it cleans your clothes. Yes, it cooks your food. Yes, it emits light. No, I don't know how exactly but it's not magic.' Contrary to what she thought his Swan wasn't all that good at explaining the miracles of her land to him.

But now all of a sudden she was being sneaky and serious about this latest appliance that had caught his attention? Killian eyed it with even greater mistrust than before. What did that one do? Kill people for you? Probably had a special program for getting rid of the body too.

Snow came out of the bathroom, drank a full glass of juice in one go and started turning around in circles, looking for her jacket. Killian grinned in amusement, getting it for her and helping her into it, while Emma glared at him from across the room, pulling a twenty out of her back pocket.

"Thank you! I am_ so _late again," Snow White whirled around, kissed him on the cheek , ran off to do the same to Emma and was out of the door before either of them could say goodbye.

"You suck so much!" grumbled Emma as she slapped the money onto his chest.

"I know, luv, we have so much in common," his smirk faltered a little as she punched his shoulder. Hard.

"How do you always know if she's gonna be late or not? I cannot wrap my mind around it," she shook her head in exasperation, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

"You just observe the wrong person, Swan. Snow never knows she is late until the last minute. But I know your dad, by the time he has drunk his coffee, sugar or no, and whistled his way out of the door, Lou Bega or Sting, I can already tell you whether or not your mom is gonna be late."

"This is so," Emma scrunched up her nose, "So sick. On so many levels. You and David are _way_ too close. It's starting to give me the creeps. And I should have never put him in charge of your musical education."

Killian just laughed, approaching from behind her and putting his hands on her waist, kissing the side of her neck.

"So, what is the secretive white box for?" he murmured in her ear.

"Huh?" Emma's mind was very far away from any white boxes and she did not find it at all amusing when Killian abandoned his course of action to turn around and point at the microwave.

"That thing," he said.

Emma groaned. Curiosity, thy name was Killian I-will-even-cease-foreplay-to-know-what-a-stupid-m achine-does Jones.

"It's a microwave. But we don't really use it."

His eyebrows shot up. Well, that was new.

"Then why do you have it?"

"'Cause it's useful." Emma hopped up on the counter, sighing in resignation. She knew she would have to use some of her best move,s if she wanted to get his attention away from something that hadn't been fully explored. So, explain first, play later, it was. "It warms things for you. It can even cook a meal. It's the best for leftovers. You just take them out of the fridge, put them in for a couple of minutes and they're almost as good as the previous night. And it makes popcorn!"

Killian's face lit up at that. Oh, yes, introducing him to popcorn had been one of her great successes so far.

"So why don't you use it?" he asked eagerly.

"Microwaves are Snow's pet peeve."

"Huh?" his face was priceless, but, if she had to be honest, hers hadn't been much different the first time she had heard what she was about to tell him.

"Snow read somewhere about how the waves they emit can be harmful. Blah, blah. Long story short, she doesn't really let us use it. Heating up stuff in the oven is a bitch but once you get used to it, you don't really miss the microwave so much."

"But," Killian looked at the microwave and then back at her. "Popcorn."

Emma sighed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards her.

"Ok. I'll teach you how to use it. You and Henry can have all the popcorn you want when you're watching movies and stuff as long as mom is not around," she said, leisurely stroking his arms.

Killian grinned, starting to dip his head down to kiss her but suddenly Emma caught his face between her hands, making his look her right in the eyes.

"But you gotta promise something."

The pirate's eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he nodded with caution.

"You can't tell David," just as she had predicted Killian's face immediately took on the expression of a five-year-old that had been told that he couldn't have desert even after he had eaten all his broccoli. "He tells Snow _everything_ and I'll be in for the longest lecture, if she finds out that I took your microwave-virginity."

"Well," Killian smirked teasingly at her. "It's only fair that you get the chance to take some kind of virginity of mine."

"Killian." she looked at him with her I-mean-serious-business-here face, which these days almost always translated into 'mom is gonna have both our asses for this'.

"Fine, fine, I won't tell him," he seemed to debate something with himself for a while. "What if he wants popcorn too?"

"Killian!"

1 week later

"Emma, could you come down here for a moment, please?"

Emma frowned at the sound of her mother's tense voice and quickly went down the stairs. Snow turned around to look at her, hands on her hips.

"Really, sweetie," said Snow with a tone that suggested Emma had made an amateur mistake. "Don't you know by now that your father and Killian would be better at keeping silent under torture than at keeping secrets from each other?"

Emma groaned.

"In your father's defense though," added the brunette. "I'm pretty sure he was gonna keep Killian's confidence. But I caught them at the crime scene."

Snow held up a bowl of half-eaten popcorn as if it was a piece of incriminating evidence. Emma sat down with a sigh, she knew she was already sentenced.


	7. The Strawberry-scented Rubber

Killian stared deep into her eyes. Wondering, testing, questioning. Maybe worrying a little though he would never admit it. He wanted to satisfy all her whims but this was freaking him out. And he was a 300-years-old pirate for crying out loud. He wasn't scared! Just intimidated a little. Everyone was intimidated of the unknown. But he wanted to please her. Above anything else Killian Jones wanted to fulfill all of Emma Swan's wishes.

Emma's eyes were shining with anticipation. She was sitting on the countertop, which thanks to a certain pirate had turned into one of her favourite spots, one she would never again associate with eating. Her hands were on either side of her neck, her legs wide apart, her head cocked to the side. Clueless!Killian was way too cute and alluring. OK, any Killian was way too alluring but this one was currently making her tingle all over. And she knew he would do it. He never back down from a challenge, he never let her down, he never denied her. She felt a sort of power just thinking about it and shivered slightly.

The captain noticed her reaction and grinned despite himself. He moved closer. Hand on her knee, rubbing lazy little circles. His hook went around to run down her back and she broke out into a full out pleasure-filled shiver. His eyes were glued to her lovely lips. Mmm, Emma's lips. He was just leaning forward, their breaths mingling, when she brought one of her hands around, tapping his nose gently and giving him a look.

Well, damn. He had been so close to getting out of it.

Her finger slipped lower, teasing his lips. His mouth fell open to suck on her finger and that's all she needed.

In the next second Killian's eyes widened. His mouth closed slowly, carefully. His teeth playing gently with it, his tongue probing it. Emma rolled her eyes but the corners of her mouth wouldn't stay down. His licked his lower lip and swallowed carefully. It was new and strange and confusing. He had no idea what was expected of him.

Emma raised her eyebrows and he bit down. And then again and again. And again.

"Emma!" Killian moved back, grabbing his chin with his good hand. "What the hell is this?"

She just grinned at him.

"Swan, I'm not playing around! What is this strawberry-scented rubber? This is worse than the damn jello."

Emma looked indignant.

"You like the jello!"

"I eat the jello. There's a slight difference."

"Well, why do you eat it, if you don't like it?" she put her hands on her hips and raised a challenging eyebrow.

"I-" he seemed to chew harder for a few seconds. "Bloody hell! It's still there! I'm spitting this out."

The blonde rolled her eyes.

"It's supposed to be there, Killian. It's gum. Just keep chewing."

"So what? It will never disappear?"

He seemed way too unnerved by the prospect. Emma sighed.

"Fine, you can spit it out."

He opened his mouth but then closed it again. Eyeing her carefully and then continuing to chew.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.

"Well whaat?" he asked, obviously finding it weird to talk with the piece of gum in his mouth.

"Won't you spit it out?"

"Nope," he popped his 'p' in that annoying way he had picked up since moving to Storybrooke, the one that let her know he was being difficult.

"Killian, if you hate it, don't chew it," she hopped off the counter. "And if you hate my jello, just tell me."

"I don't hate your jello," he said, moving closer and for the first time starting to chew absentmindedly. "I'm just not used to it, lass. Your crazy machines are easier to deal with than all those bloody things that you are trying to pass for food, while they are clearly not."

"That's why I'm telling you that you don't have to force yourself to eat them."

"Oh, but you make the cutest faces while I do," he grinned, putting his arms around her.

Emma couldn't suppress an eye-roll.

"My expressions are a direct reaction to yours. I should make you eat ice-cream in front of a mirror sometime."

"Mmm, ice-cream. Cream. Emma with cream."

"Seriously? That's the way your brain works? Wait. No. I'm not even surprised."

"But see? I have become quite fond of some of your world's 'food inventions'."

"Yeah. Well, I promise to stop pestering you to try everything," she said understandingly, thinking that she hadn't been too enthusiastic about the food in the Enchanted Forest either.

"Now why would you do that? If I don't try everything, I can't pick out what I like."

Before Emma could reply Killian blew a bubble that popped and ended up all over his nose, sending her into a fit of hysterics.

"What the hell was that?" yelled the pirate, trying to get rid of the offending sticky mess.

"You mastered chewing gum," said Emma through her laughter, swapping his hand away so that she could get rid of the aftermath of his very first gum bubble.

"I did?" he asked, the surprise and pride on his face almost managing reduce her to a giggling mess again but she got herself under control and just nodded, smiling brightly at him.

"Yeah, baby, you did."

The pirate grinned from ear to ear. Endearments from Emma were rare. It didn't make him doubt whether or not she cared or anything. It just wasn't her thing. So when she did use one on him, he knew he had been especially 'adorable' as she put it.

"See? That's why I do it."

She furrowed her brows in confusion.

"To make you smile," he clarified, leaning down to kiss her. "It's all to make you smile, love."

Emma bit her lower lip once he let it go, trying hard not to blush. And failing.

"Yeah, yeah," she rolled her eyes, moving away from him, trying to play it down, but he grinned knowingly.

There was a special door for him in the middle of Emma Swan's walls. And he was enlarging it every day.

A rattling sound drew him out of his thoughts. Emma had opened the fridge and come out with a whole new expression on her face. A naughty little smirk he knew all too well.

Shaking the can of cream in her hand, the sheriff advanced towards him.


End file.
